


The Finer Things

by round_robin



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Lingerie, M/M, Stockings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin
Summary: Next winter, Jaskier arrived with a gift for Lambert. He was a little nervous about it, actually, though he thought he was pretty on track. When he presented the box to Lambert, he held his breath. He opened the lid and two dark eyebrows arched, lips parting a little. “Oh...” Lambert sighed, taking in the sight of his present.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Comments: 18
Kudos: 123





	The Finer Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GreenBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBird/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Saucy Witchers Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862078) by [GreenBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBird/pseuds/GreenBird). 



> Inspired by the lovely art from GreenBird, it can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862078/chapters/72296925#workskin) and it is beautiful. I wrote this a little while ago but I was waiting for it to be uploaded to AO3 so I could link them together. There are mentions of Jaskier/Witchers, but since Jaskier/Lambert is the main pairing, that's what I tagged for. (Also background Geralt/Eskel, because I love them together.)
> 
> Please enjoy, and thank you to GreenBird for your lovely art <3

Lambert took one look at Geralt's bard—wrapped in layer after layer of thick wool and fur—and shook his head. “Yeah, the cold's a bitch up here. Come on, let Geralt unload.”

So thoroughly swaddled in cloth, Jaskier waddled behind Lambert as he led him to the big cooking fire in the hall. He had to remove a few layers before his body would bend enough to sit, but soon they were both warming themselves by the fire. Lambert grabbed one of the larger fur throws and wrapped it around them both, sharing the warmth.

Pushed up so close, he now saw, or rather _felt_ , the bottom most layer of Jaskier's clothing. A silk doublet. Though he frowned at the impractical fabric, Lambert couldn't help but reach out and stroke a finger over the silky cuff poking out from under the more reasonable wool. “Silk won't keep you warm up here, bard. Didn't Geralt tell you?”

“He did as a matter of fact,” Jaskier said, pulling the warmer shirt up so Lambert could see more of the fine material, stroke his fingers over it. “But I'm of the belief that, in the deep of winter, one shouldn't deny themselves comfort. Impractical it may be, but add enough blankets...” he flicked the edge of the fur covering them, then stunning blue eyes locked with his, “and enough warm company, I think we'll manage.”

Jaskier spent the rest of that first winter showing them all the finer things in life—namely, his ass, his cock, his lips, and the softer pleasure that could be found in bed. A small smile always graced his lips when he saw (or felt) Lambert leaning close just to get a touch of his silks, a purr rumbling from his chest every time.

* * *

Next winter, Jaskier arrived with a gift for Lambert. He was a little nervous about it, actually, though he thought he was pretty on track. Lambert didn't just spend time stroking Jaskier's silky doublets, his eyes and hands always strayed to the silk stockings Jaskier wore on the days he wanted to play for them after dinner. They were not for everyday wear, usually only for court performances, but Jaskier got a little smile at the thought of taking his best performing clothes up to a drafty old castle, and treating a room full of Witchers to his finest display.

The stockings were light gray silk, so they went with almost everything he had, and had gentle ridges that added a bit of flair, without being too ostentatious. The first time he wore them, Lambert's eyes darted to his legs more often than usual, but there was no heat in his gaze (the way there was in Geralt's, who tried to snag a hold of Jaskier whenever he came close) it was more... curiosity. Laying in bed that night, Geralt and Eskel cuddled up and dozing, Lambert ran his fingers over the smooth ridges, smiling a little.

When Jaskier presented the box to Lambert, he held his breath. He opened the lid and two dark eyebrows arched, lips parting a little. “Oh...” Lambert sighed, taking in the sight of his present.

They weren't like Jaskier's, which stopped just above his knee, enough to cover where his breeches ended and his shoes began. The stockings he presented Lambert with were... more feminine, but definitely made with a man's body in mind. They had bands at the top that would secure them around Lambert's thighs, thick, luscious things Jaskier hoped to have over his shoulders soon enough, tonight in fact.

He reached out, rubbing his knuckles over the back of Lambert's hand as he held the box. “You like my silks, and I, uh... noticed, you seem to enjoy...” He didn't know how to say it, didn't know if Lambert would feel called out by Jaskier's assumption. He tried again. “They're made for a man, so they will fit. There's a tailor in Novigrad who makes _specialty_ items.”

Lambert didn't say a word as he gently touched the stockings, fingers tracing the Toussainti swirl pattern before admiring the seams that would run up the backs of his legs. “You brought me silk stockings...”

“Yes. I did.”

They stood in silence for a moment, neither looking up, both focused on the box in Lambert's hands. Finally, he closed the package and leveled his gaze on Jaskier, a small smirk flashing across his lips. “Wanna come watch me put them on?”

“Fuck yes I do.”

Though he was no match for a Witcher when it came to speed, Jaskier managed to keep right behind Lambert, watching the lovely globes of his ass flex as they ran through the halls, up the stairs, and into the bedroom. Geralt and Eskel had disappeared earlier and were currently getting reacquainted (if the soft moans and gasps from down the hall were anything to go by) so they ducked into Lambert's room. The fire was low, but that was easily fixed. Jaskier went to stoke it, his eyes darting over to Lambert, watching as he stripped out of his normal clothes to change into his new, _special_ stockings.

His rough tunic that had been patched too many times was quickly thrown aside, landing in the corner. Dirty boots were similar kicked off, no care given to the common material. Though they were useful work clothes, tonight was not about work, it was about indulgence. For that reason, Jaskier made sure to wear his softest undershirt, the one made from cotton from the royal fields of Toussaint, the very best he could afford. He stood up, brushing the dust from the knees of his best breeches and checking his silk doublet for any clinging fuzz. Once Jaskier was certain he looked his best for Lambert, he turned around, eyes going wide at the scene in front of him.

One hand on the post of his bed, Lambert stood on one foot, the other slowly rubbing up and down his own leg, feeling the slide of the stockings. Naked but for the stockings, the blue silk wrapped all the way up to the top of his thighs, stopping a few inches below his cock, which stood up, hard and leaking. The deep blue against the creamy expanse of Lambert's skin made Jaskier's breath catch. He smoothed a hand over the rapidly riding bulge in his breeches.

With a surprisingly coquettish smile, Lambert sauntered over. He didn't swing his hips or put a spring in his steps, he walked as he normally would, a predator stalking down his prey, ready to devour Jaskier. But Jaskier had a few tricks tonight, though he'd let Lambert have his moment.

As soon as he was in range, Jaskier wrapped his arms around Lambert's hips, pulling them nose to nose. Scarred fingers played with the collar of his doublet, purring at the blue silk. “We match,” Lambert breathed.

“That we do.” As if Jaskier hadn't planed his own outfit for this very moment. The sight of Lambert in the blue silk, gentle, swirling leaves making their way up his supple calves and firm thighs. Jaskier wanted to push his face between those thighs and stay there for the rest of the night. He ran a hand up the back of his neck, gently cradling. “You look beautiful. What would you like from me tonight?”

In the first hint of self-consciousness, Lambert looked down, one hand rubbing at the top of the stockings. “Beautiful? Probably not the right word for it.”

Ah well, Jaskier had to correct that notion right the hell now. He planned to let Lambert guide their pleasure tonight, but they could do that another time, self esteem needed tending first. Sliding one arm around his hips, he pulled them over to the bed, slowly removing his clothes and gently folding them until he stood naked in front of Lambert. “Come now, don't tell me you can't see it.” Lowering them down on the bed, Jaskier took his time pressing kisses to every inch of Lambert's face, licking softly over his scars. “You are a vision any other night, but wearing my present? The lovely silk I knew you'd adore? It's as if the gods themselves decided to send you down to walk the earth.”

Lambert huffed, turning his head to accept more kisses down his neck. “Jaskier...”

“No, I speak the truth and you know it.” He continued downwards, dragging his tongue, lips, and the tip of his nose over every scar, bump and crevice Lambert had, ending just below his belly button, so close to his cock, but not touching, not yet... His hands slid up the silk clad thighs, moaning at the hard muscle beneath the delicate fabric. “You love the pretty things I buy, don't you? Tell me what you want next year and you'll have it. More stockings? I bet you'd look fetching in a corset, all those laces...”

“ _Jaskier_.” Lambert moaned again, but he didn't deny it. The thought of Jaskier standing behind him, lacing him tight before fucking him hard, thick cock stretching him until he felt it the next morning. “Yes, I'd like that.”

“Then you shall have it. I will cover you in pretty things. Now please, let me take care of you.” Lambert nodded and lay back, eyes tracing Jaskier as he went to his bag and retrieved some salve.

Pushing his legs up and back, Lambert's silk stockings rubbed against his own sides. He threw his head back, luxuriating in the sensation as a slick finger brushed his hole. One finger soon turned into two, then three, but Lambert was already lost, the scent of Jaskier above him coupled with the soft silk on him—not just against him, but on him, _his_ silks—made him purr.

Lining the head of his cock up with Lambert's hole, Jaskier hooked his ankles onto his shoulders before pushing in, resting hand hands on Lambert's knees. “Fuck...” he hissed, watching his prick disappear inside of Lambert. He turned his head, kissing one silken ankle. He wanted to bite at the fine fabric, but knew he had to hold back. It wouldn't do to rumple Lambert so soon.

The body under him shuddered, arching off the bed as Lambert reached back and wrapped his hands around the pillow for some stability. “Fuck, even your rings match...”

“Mmm, yes, nothing but the best for you.” Jaskier was very deliberate about how he presented himself to Lambert tonight: blue doublet, sapphire rings, all to accentuate the blue stockings he hoped to see the youngest wolf in, and now here they were. He gripped tighter to Lambert's knees, drawing his hips back before pushing forward again, fucking into that tight heat. “Oh, you pretty thing, taking me so well.”

Lambert arched again. “Yes, pretty.”

“So pretty, gorgeous, radiant, stunning.” Jaskier would exhaust his (admittedly large) vocabulary if Lambert wanted him to, worshiping him with his words as well as his cock.

“Say it again.” Lambert's lips were trembling, his hands gripping so tight to the pillows, his knuckles were white. Turning his feet, he locked them together behind Jaskier's head, making sure the bard couldn't escape. Like he was fucking going anywhere.

Cupping Lambert's chin, Jaskier leaned down to snatch a kiss, rolling his hips and thrusting deep. “My pretty thing, you're so wonderful, letting me cover you with silk.”

Though his eyes were closed in bliss, enjoying every thrust and roll of Jaskier's hips, and that thick cock twitching inside of him, Lambert suddenly cocked an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Wanna see you cover me another way too. Come on the silk.”

Jaskier's breath caught. “But, they're brand new. Surely you want to enjoy them a little more?”

Lambert shook his head, shoving himself down onto Jaskier's cock a little. “No. As soon as you feel it, I want to see your spend fucking all over me.” He fluttered his eyelashes, voice going soft. “Please?”

He wasn't about to refuse such a request, and they were Lambert's stockings after all... Fuck, the idea of the blue silk, so carefully made with Elihal's talented hands, now to be covered in his spunk. Well, he supposed Elihal himself would rather appreciate his creations being used for such fun. “Yes,” Jaskier agreed. “Anything you desire, my darling, anything you want from me.”

He already felt his orgasm building, the soft, dirty chatter getting to him. Lambert was getting to him as well, head thrown back, exposing that long neck, which was far too delicate for a Witcher. Jaskier wanted to sink his teeth into moon pale skin and shout his orgasm as he buried himself to the hilt... but there'd be other orgasms this winter, and Lambert had a very specific request at the moment.

Heat coalesced at the tip of his cock, pleasure sparking up through his balls. Jaskier barely managed to pull out, the first shot landing on the back of Lambert's thigh, dripping down the silk. The next shot landed on his calf, and the third weak pulse missed and hit Lambert's cock, pushing him over the edge. “Fuck, fuck,” he chanted as he stroked himself through his climax, adding to the mess.

Jaskier leaned back on his heels, waiting until Lambert finished. Golden eyes found his and nodded towards the streaks of come on the stockings. “Lick it up.”

If Jaskier hadn't just come literal seconds before, he would've been hard again. Leaning down, he licked up the back of Lambert's silken thigh, moaning at the taste of his own spend on his tongue. Once Lambert's stockings were clean again, he invited Jaskier to lick his stomach clean before they settled together in bed.

“Thank you,” Lambert said, voice softer than normal. He carded his fingers through Jaskier's hair, sniffing the satisfied, fucked out smell covering them both. “No one has ever given me nice things like this before.” Weapons didn't count, he decided, though he did have a good trophy knife from Eskel, mother of pearl handle... he was getting off track. “If you want to buy me more, I'll wear it, but don't feel obligated—”

“It's not an obligation. I want to see you in pretty things, and you enjoy it so much.” Running his fingers over the stockings one more time—Jaskier couldn't get enough of them, how fucking amazing they looked wrapped around such powerful legs, dark hair adding to the beautiful sight—he sighed happily, starting to drift off to sleep. “Next year, a corset, I think. And I'll have to get your thoughts on undergarments... Tomorrow. Tomorrow.”

As Jaskier drifted off, Lambert made himself comfortable, resting his head on the bard's chest. They fell asleep, both of them with a hand on the silk stockings.

**Author's Note:**

> The pattern on the stockings in GreenBird's lovely art is called Florentine Swirls, but I changed it to Toussainti Swirls for flavor reasons.


End file.
